


Our Perfect Disease

by wefallnomore



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, GTA! au, Immortal Fake AH Crew, but then it gets happy, discontinued, ray returns to the crew, this is kind of sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:39:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7279558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wefallnomore/pseuds/wefallnomore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray returns to the crew after 20 years. They deal with the ups and downs, but they end up doing okay. How hard could it be to slot back into a group after being away so long?</p><p>Immortal FAHC</p><p>*DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Back to the Shack

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for this fandom so I hope this goes well.  
> Thank you to my unofficial betas that have been following along with this fic as its been written in Google Docs.

 

 

The barren desert whizzes past the bus window at a speed that couldn't quite be safe for the nearly broken down vehicle. He could see the skyline of Los Santos looming on the horizon as his head was leant lazily against the dirty glass.

He had traded out his old purple hoodie for a much less conspicuous black one with no markings but a small brown colored crown at the nape of his neck that was hidden whenever his hood was down. In the bag at his feet was the dismantled signature pink rifle that he was so well known for, the only thing that seemed to be the same about him.

When he left the city years ago, he hadn't thought that he would return so soon. Maybe ten years from nowadays he think that he might come back to the city that had been his home for so many years of his life.

He clicked on his phone, swiping and tapping at the screen to get the music and turn on shuffle. The loud drone of music filled his earbuds and he sighed, relaxing into the seat to try and enjoy the last few hours he had until they got off the bus in the middle of downtown.

  
~oOo~

  
The loud hustle and bustle of the downtown life woke him faster than the over-priced cup of coffee he was currently holding as he walked down the street. His duffle in one hand and his backpack slung over one shoulder. Unless they had moved their base, he was only a few blocks down from the main tower.

As he moved closer to the tall building, he could feel an uneasiness settle in the pit of his stomach, a feeling he hadn't felt in years. Not since he had made the decision to leave the crew a few years ago. It had been a shit show when he first brought it up, but they had eventually sent him off with well wishes. He could only imagine the chaos that will ensue when he shows up again out of the blue with no warning.

All of a sudden, he felt like his backpack was heavier. The old, bulky flip-phone was still secure in its pocket in his bag. It had been silent for the last few years, the most recent text was from Michael. A half goodbye, half threat for him to log onto his X-Box account as often as possible so they could still play games together. It had been radio silence since then and they had only played a single round of Halo together a month after he had left.

There was no doubt in his mind that it was still functioning and paid for, he had been promised that by the big-man himself. It was his hotline to his crew. His _family_.

The thought that they might not think that anymore only weighed down the pit in his stomach more. His feet only felt heavier as he trudged closer to the building, the numerous possible scenarios with their reactions playing through his head only gave him a spike of anxiety.

When standing at the front doors to the building, he set down his duffle to pull out his old worn down wallet. His fingers easily moved to the spot where his keycard was, the muscle memory only making him smile softly at the uncountable amounts of times he did the same exact thing. Slipping it out, he waved it in front of the scanner.

It took a second but the door eventually beeped and he was allowed in. Doing the same thing for the elevator, he stood and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Swiping his earbuds from his ears and shoving them in his pocket, he gnawed on his lip and watched the numbers climb as he ascended towards the penthouse.

A floor below, the thought had occurred to him the he hadn't even checked to see if they would be home.

The last bell was heard and rang out in the silence that followed. He choked out a laugh as the doors silently slid open and was met with silence. The penthouse was deserted, though he could see that the crew was still based there by the small signs of life littered around the large main room.

The half full can of Diet Coke sitting on the coffee table, the X-Box controllers placed haphazardly around the living room area, even the empty bottle of whiskey on the counter next to the garbage can. A small, fond smile played along his lips and he headed toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

He instinctively headed toward what was once his bedroom. Due to the fact that he had left with only his backpack and duffle bag, he had left many things here. Clothing, souvenirs, and small things he had acquired over the years were left here. But, as he opened the door, the room was bare of anything other than the bed with a generic comforter and pillowcase (unlike the cool, themed ones he had left here) and the plain wooden dresser.

The thick layer of dust that was across the surface of the dresser told him that no one had been in here since they had cleaned it out however long ago. He would have to remember to ask where they had stashed all his stuff when they got back, but he remembered that they would probably have some questions, if not some strong words, that they would want answered first when they returned.

His backpack and his duffle bag were dropped on the floor at the foot of the bed and he closed the bedroom door. He looked out the large windows to the darkening skyline of Los Santos from up above. The familiar sight filled him with nostalgia as he hadn't seen it in so long. The lights in the streets were beginning to turn on in preparation for the lively nightlife of the City of Crime.

They could be gone for hours. Hell, depending on if they had done a heist recently they could be gone for a few days.

He checked his phone and fished his charger out of the backpack. It was only eight, but he felt as if it was four in the morning with all that had happened today and the sudden onslaught of emotions that he hadn't felt in so long.

Kicking off his shoes, he sprawled on the bed on top of the covers. It seemed that it didn't smell like him anymore, the years he spent away and the new comforter and pillow probably aiding in ridding the room of his scent, but he ignored it.

It was easy for him to relax into the different but oh so familiar bed. Over the last few years he had grown accustomed to being able to fall asleep in any bed he could find or afford. He had always found it easy to fall asleep anywhere at anytime, but up until a few years ago beds had been another story. Until he had left the crew, he had only been able to fall asleep in beds that smelled like someone he trusted, or his own.

That was all out the window now as he felt years’ worth of tension seep out of his body as he felt completely and utterly safe for the first time in a long time. He hadn't realized just how affected he was by this job until this very moment. Not being safe anywhere but a place like this tower where someone had set up such a advanced security system really made someone like him always on edge.

Someone like him who had been in this business for so long he didn't know how to live any other way. Someone, who could be used as an advantage against one of the most powerful crime bosses in the country. He, who probably had more targets on his head at a single moment than most people would have in their life.

He sighed, his eyes closing as he lazily removed his glasses and placed them on the night stand.

This was probably going to be the best sleep he’d have had in a long time.

  
~oOo~

  
He woke up to noise leaking in from the hallway outside his door. In an instant of panic, he bolted into a sitting position as he didn't recognize where he was. His hand scrambled to the surface of the nightstand to slip on his glasses. The screen on his phone said it was little after one in the morning and the glittering skyline of the city out the window let him know where he was.

For a moment, he was transported back to the night years ago when he had stayed up until the late hours of the night trying to figure out how he was going to break the news of his leaving to the crew.

Back in the present, he swallowed thickly as he stared at the door. The loud laughter that could be heard echoing through the door the was undoubtedly owned by one Geoff Ramsey calmed his nerves for a moment. They sounded so _happy_ , like they had gotten over his departure and moved on.

At that thought, he began to frown and think about how his reappearance could either rip all of that down or make it all better.

Steeling himself as he heard them all head back to the large main room, he stood up and padded towards the door. The faint conversations that could be heard from the living room warmed his heart that had been cold for what felt like forever.

He opened the door and all conversation in the living room ceased. It was that moment that he regretted not sending any of the crew a text before he showed up unannounced at the penthouse. Biting the inside of his cheek, he pulled at the edge of his hood that was over his head from sleeping as a nervous habit he had picked up over the years. His footsteps were hesitant as he walked towards the main room. Every sound he made seemed to be magnified in the now silent but populated penthouse.

Turning the corner to the main room, he froze at the familiar but completely skewed scene in front of him. The crew was in full defense mode, most of them had their hands hovering over some form of concealed weapon as far as he could see and none of them showed any mercy in their eyes for him as they sat at the dining room table. Ryan, however, was now standing with his gun pointed directly at his head. Though there was about fifteen feet between them, he could still see the dangerous glint in his eyes that showed that it wasn't Ryan in front of him at the moment, but the very deadly Vagabond.

“Not another step.” The Vagabond’s deep voice threatened. “Give me one good reason I shouldn't shoot your daring ass right now?”

Before he could get a word in edgewise, Michael was turning to glare at Gavin. “How the fuck did someone get past your security rig?” He hissed.

“I don't know!” Gavin squawked indignantly, offended someone would question the security of his own work. “No one should be able to get past it!”

“Well it looks like someone did, numbnuts!”

He sighed, shrugging his shoulders which seemed to stop all conversation. “I’m hurt, guys.” The two that had been bickering turned back to him. “I know it's been a few years, but you couldn't forget me that easily. Especially you, Rye-Bread.”

At the familiar pet name, Ryan’s mask cracked and he faltered his hold on the gun, a confused look took over the dangerous glint in his eyes. As he kept eye-contact with Ryan, he could see a few other eyes widen in the corner of his vision.

“ _Ray_?” That was Ryan’s quiet, disbelieving voice break the silence that had descended upon the room.

He looked down at himself. “Really? Do I really look _that_ different?” He looked back up with a frown. “All I really did was switch out my purple hoodie for this one. And get a bit tanner but that's besides the point.”

At that, Jack scoffed and looked at him like he had three heads. “Ray, you look like a skeleton.” He said, his voice laced with concern rather than anger at his reappearance, which is the exact emotion it looked like Michael had been holding in since his identity had been revealed.

“Spooky.” He whispered, his immediate reaction not really amusing anyone in particular besides himself.

“Seriously dude.” Geoff said, his eyebrows furrowing as his eyes scanned him over several times. “You look like you're almost as skinny as Gavin was when we got him.” A moment’s pause. “Have you been eating?”

Ray shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets as he now felt all attention fall awkwardly on him. “Of course I have.” He muttered. “I fit something in whenever I have time.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, gnawing on his lip again.

Jack frowned at that, swiveling in his chair to open one of the many pizza boxes on the table. “Come on and eat. We obviously have plenty.”

Rolling his eyes, Ray moved toward the table. He took his normal spot between Ryan and Michael, the former pulling his hood down and causing Gavin to laugh. “Geez, Ray, you need a haircut.” The Brit smiling over at him.

“Really?” He reached up to run a hand through his hair. “It doesn't feel that long?”

“Yeah,” Geoff said around his pizza slice. “And that beard. Pretty soon you’ll be on your way to looking like Jack.” He said, causing the man in comparison to chuckle.

“You really haven't been taking too much care for yourself, have you?” Ryan asked in a small voice, speaking as if he talked too loud that he would blow away and cease to be there. The room was quiet again, looking at him with mild concern as if they had all been thinking it. As if he couldn't take care of himself outside of the crew like he had for so long before he joined the crew in the first place.

If he hadn't been sitting right next to Ryan with his good ear facing towards him, Ray doubted he would have been able to hear him. “Kind of hard to when I'm moving across the country and taking jobs as I get them.” He frowned, though he involuntarily brought his shoulders and arms forward to make himself smaller under the scrutinization.

Jack quietly grabbed a plate and put two of the larger pizza slices from the boxes onto the plate, passing it over the table to Ray who took it graciously. No one seemed to want to speak up about it besides a few swear words coming under Michael’s breath that Ray barely caught. They continued to engage in normal conversation, Ray adding bits here and there, but there seemed to be a hint of awkwardness as they spoke. Sometimes they would begin a conversation and end up halting it when they realized he couldn't contribute or he wouldn't know what they were talking about. Ryan was oddly quiet next to him as they both chewed on their pizza.

The group would occasionally steal glances at each other as if there was some huge secret. Sadly, after being away for so long and not exposed to such behaviors, Ray couldn't decipher the looks. He frowned, feeling put down by that thought as they had all been so close years ago.

It’s truly amazing what a few years could do to a person.

From what he could see, Geoff had another worry line on his forehead, but his crow's feet were more prominent that they had been meaning they at least still had fun doing whatever they did. Jack’s beard was shorter than it had been, now only a quarter of an inch longer than where his chin stopped probably because he lost a bet. Michael, who had previously a mark-less face, now had a pale scar cutting through the abundant freckles on his cheekbone. He thought that Gavin was the same as he had been at first glance, but then he saw the barely there twitching of his hand that seemed involuntary. Ryan on the other hand had never been one to show weakness, even around the crew, unless of course he was sick in which he became the whiney person he truly was.

Ray himself, though he like Ryan would never tell the crew, was now highly favoring his right ear due to a job gone wrong where he had been too close to an explosion when it had gone off. His ear had had a ringing in it for a few days afterwards, but he had been left with a severe loss of hearing on his left side. The doctors had given him a hearing aide, but it was still stashed away in its tiny box in his bag only to be used during a job when it was needed mostly to be a good sniper.

Over the next twenty minutes, the six of them as they made their way through the four pizza boxes so that there was only about enough slices for a whole pie in various boxes when the front door opened.

Everyone said some sort of greeting as a short man in an ungodly mish-mash of colored clothing walked into the room. To his left, Ray caught the slightly dimmed shout from Gavin.

“Little J!” The British man called, holding out the sound of the last syllable and earning an elbow to the side from Michael.

“Dude, no need to shout when he’s not even twenty feet away.” Michael said with a roll to his eyes, but a fond smile. “Especially when it's directly in my ear.”

So his name started with a J? Ray tried to work out who the person could be. It was obvious that the crew was comfortable with him, so they had to know him. Chances were that he knew the person, too. The conversation droned on and he partially tuned it out as he saw the new addition to the room greet everyone with a smile or a joke.

It wasn't until he turned a curious gaze in Ray’s direction did he tune back in at the mention of his name.

“...Ray. He’s the one who used to work with us.” It was Geoff’s voice that was talking to him and seemingly explaining who he was. At the still confused look, Ray stood and stuck out his hand.

“BrownMan.” He said, introducing himself as most people might know him nowadays. The other man had taken his hand, but now had frozen with wide eyes.

“ _Really_?” He asked, apparently incredulous to the fact that he was shaking hands with him. “ _The_ BrownMan? Pink sniper rifle? Best Sniper that Los Santos has to offer?”

“Dude, don't wet yourself.” Michael chuckled next to him, causing him to flush.

Ray laughed and retracted his hand. “Yep. One and only. Gun’s in my bag.” He hummed, sticking his hand into the pocket on his hoodie to join the other.

“I was expecting a little less hair.” J said, motioning to his face and hair.

“That's temporary. I was on a job until last week that took up a month of my life.” Ray said, scratching at the beard that had accumulated on his chin. He’d probably shave that tonight.

“Last I heard you were in the Carolinas.” J-name nodded, as if that explained the job he had been on. He then raised an eyebrow. “I knew you worked with the crew, but you left a _while_ ago, didn't you?”

God, this kid was blunt.

“Yeah,” he said, albeit a bit stiffly. “Quite a while ago.” Ray’s voice was barely above a whisper so that he knew the others could hear it but it almost didn't register with him.

“Twenty years.” Ryan finally spoke up, his voice bitter. “And not even a word of communication.” He wasn't making eye contact with anyone, but he was glaring daggers at the greasy paper plate in front of him. “Not even an _attempt_ to contact us.”

“Don’t you _dare_ try to blame that on me.” Ray’s voice came out as a harsh hiss, his head snapping to the side to look at the still sitting man beside him. “I was the one to try and contact you guys. _You’re_ the ones who went radio silent on _me_.” His expression was pained, voice choked. Looking around, several people looked either sheepish or confused. “I sent you texts for _months_ , left you _thousands_ of voicemails.” He clenched his jaw, his hands following suit at his sides. “ _None_ of you answered. _Not a single gods damned one of you._ ” Ray felt the anger seeping out of his body slowly after the sudden rise in his voice. He sent one last glare at Ryan. “So fuck you and you're ‘twenty years and not a word of word of communication’,” He said quietly obviously showing his emotion to his oldest friend who continued to avoid his gaze. “I tried to contact you most of all, _Jacobus_.” It was easy to see the flinch at such an old name being used with such venom. “So why don't you go check your _gods forsaken_ phone? _Then_ you can find and talk to me about ‘not even an attempt at contact’.”

The room was silent, no one wanting to disrupt the tenseness of the situation. Ray let out a sound halfway between a scoff and a sigh. “I'm sorry I thought this could work again.” He mumbled, stuffing his hands into his pockets to walk back towards his room.

Ryan stood as if to go after him. “Ray, I-”

“Don't worry, i’ll be out of your hair by morning.” He said back, his tone monotonous and void of the emotion he had just shown, and it looked like he had just visibly slapped Ryan with his words.

The last thing he saw before turning out of the room and down the hall was the man with the J-name looking confused and Geoff moving to pat the shoulder of a defeated looking Ryan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to comment and leave your thoughts! Even if it's something like how your day is going or how many dogs you saw today! I love hearing back from my readers.


	2. This Is How We Do

When he was sitting on the edge of his bed looking out at the skyline, Ray could hear people moving around and pausing outside his door occasionally. They would hesitate outside his door before moving away. He had closed the door just hard enough for it to not be considered a slam.

Feeling the stinging, hot tears pool in his eyes had made him mad, made him worse off than he had been when he had left years before which was saying something.

There was a prolonged pause at the door before a soft knock was heard. A simple ‘come in’ escaped him, not really sure if he would like to have someone with him at the moment, as he rubbed his eyes and stuffed the now wet sleeve into his pocket. The door was pushed open and Jack stiff at the threshold, looking awkward as he peered into the room that had gone uninhabited for the last twenty years.

“Don't worry,” He gave a bittersweet smile, knowing his eyes were still rimmed red. “Contrary to what you might think right now, I won't bite.” Ray joked, trying to break the awkward atmosphere that was filling the space between them as he went to look out the window at the lightening skyline.

“Sorry,” Jack apologized genuinely looking sheepish. “It’s just that no one has been in here in so long that it's weird to see it have someone.” A small chuckle came from the new guest as he stepped into the room. “Hell, it’s just weird to see the door open.”

Ray nodded glancing around the room for a moment, his eyes hesitating on the heavily dust covered dresser that had the single streak of clear surface where his finger had dragged only a few hours previous. There was a dip in the bed beside him as Jack sat down. He was close enough to the other man that he could feel the fabric of his sweatshirt brush against Jack’s shoulder. The contact sent goosebumps down his arms causing his hair to stand on end. He felt his heart sink at the companionable silence stretched on.

It had always been easy with Jack. The amiable aura that he radiates eased away any worries that he had whenever they hung out. They never needed to talk to one another when alone which suited Ray just fine. His loud and funny personality was able to hang back and take a break when in the silence that never felt like it needed to be filled.

“Y’ know, your being here is just going to make leaving again that much harder.” Ray whispered, afraid to break the silence.

Jack sighed next to him. “That’s the point, Ray.” He murmured. Ray knew that he was looking at him, could feel the soft eyes boring holes into the side of his head. “No one wants you to leave again.” Ray fought to keep his face emotionless at the desperation in Jack’s voice, though they were running rampant in his own mind. “We all had a hard enough time with it last time.”

The unintentional harshness of the words made Ray shrink in and curse at himself. He never used to cower away at hard tones. Having been part of one of the largest crews in the country, not to mention one of the most powerful, had left him feeling high and mighty most days. The inability to die also helped. He welcomed death as one would an old friend every time they met which had been several times in the last years.

Jack frowned but pressed against his side as a sort of reassurance. “ _None_ of us want you to leave.” His voice was soft and Ray had to gnaw at the inside of his cheek to stop the tears from forming in his eyes again. _Dammit he never used to be this emotional_. “If you leave again, most of them are going to feel like this was a tease. A teaser to something we could never have again.” There was a moment of silence as if Jack was thinking something over. After the moment it seemed as though he became smaller and older than before. “ _Please_ , Ray.” He sounded so openly desperate and it broke Ray’s heart. “Don't leave us again. It was _so hard_ not to go after you the first time. Everyone was fighting with Ryan for us to go after you and bring you back home.”

“What do you mean, fighting with Ryan?” Ray asked, suddenly confused by what Jack was saying.

“He was the one who said we should let you go.” Jack admitted, hesitating as he saw hurt in Ray’s eyes even though he wasn't looking into Jack’s eyes. “He said that you needed time. Said that you used to do this all the time when it was just you guys, before you both met us.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ray could see Jack turning his eyes to the ground while fidgeting with his hands. “Ryan said that you always came back, but we all noticed that even he was becoming more and more unsure as the years went on.” Jack finally looked up only to meet Ray’s eyes. “Will you please stay?”

Ray hesitated, running through all this new information in his head. _Gods_ he wanted to stay so badly. Of course, he knew that he got restless when staying in a single place for too long, but the last twenty years were probably going to be enough for a long time.

“Do you know where all my stuff went?” He asked, a small smile barely being contained.

Jack’s smile faltered, obviously having misconceived the question, and he seemed to deflate. “Back of the closet, bottom shelf.” He said, motioning weakly to the closed door that led to the small walk-in near the open door to the hallway.

“Thanks. I was going to put stuff back up a few hours ago when I arrived but didn't because I had no idea where you guys had stashed this stuff.” Ray stood and walked to the door to open it.

“Does this mean you're staying?” A new voice came from the doorway and they both turned to see Michael leaning on the doorframe.

Ray smiled. “Yeah, man.” He hummed. “I mean, unless you guys _want_ me to leave again?”

“No.” Came the almost immediate answer as Geoff walked past the door towards his own room. The three men in Ray’s room laugh and Ray dragged the large box out of the closet.

  
~oOo~

  
It had only taken about an hour to set up his room again.

The small knickknacks he had left here for safe-keeping went back up on the book shelves. Things from different eras intermingling as he added even more from the most recent years.

They now all sat, sans the gents who had all crashed by the time Ray was done, in the living room. Michael and Gavin were yelling at each other while he was laughing in the background. The worms on the screen were in all different stages of injury, though half of Gavin’s team was either dead and the other was dangerously close to it.

It seemed in the time he was away the rest of them had taken after Gavin and began naming their worms stupid ‘made up names’ so now Ray was the only one with a normally named team.

Gavin's last worm finally plunged into the water followed by high pitched squeaking and Michael’s laughter and light hearted insults. His team name dropped off the screen and it was down to Ray’s two worms and Michael’s one.

The game was paused as Jack came out of one of the bedrooms in pajamas, stretching and popping his back as he yawned. “You three are still up?” He asked, the words making the three lads glance to the clock on the cable box. In the time it took them to play several rounds of various games, hours had gone by and it was now almost nine in the morning. They hadn't even realized the sun raising more than it had been at four when they sat down.

“We were catching up.” Ray said, a soft smile gracing his face.

“Yeah, and you made another fucking milestone.” Michael griped. “Six hundred thousand gamerscore. Hell, man.”

“Not my fault I'm better at games than you.” He joked, bumping a shoulder with him. “I'm just better at acclimating myself to the new technology.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Jack intervened. “I'm glad you guys are catching up. Anyone want breakfast?” They all raised their hands, eager to have Jack’s cooking even if it was a close second to Geoff’s.

After several minutes of helping prepare the food like the children they were, Jack turned to them as he mixed the batter. “Any plans for today now that you're back in the city?”

“Definately getting rid of this.” Ray hummed, lifting up a single strand of his hair then scratched at his beard. “Maybe wreak some havoc to show the population that I'm back.” Michael elbowed him then smirked when he looked up at him as if to say that he’d be happy to join him.

“What about clothes shopping.” Gavin chimed in from the bar counter.

“I was gonna ask earlier.” Michael said as he leaned back against the counter near the stove. “The fuck is up with the new get up, man?” His blunt words made Ray laugh.

“My new logo.” He said simply, turning and lifting his hood so they could see the small brown crown. “All of you have your individual signs under the crews umbrella, so I thought that I should have one, too.” The three of them hummed, nodding as they thought of their own signs and Ray turned back to them. “Brown doesn't really look good on purple so I ditched it for black. Still have the old one, just haven't worn it in a while.” A smirk appeared on his lips. “I’ll wear it now, though. Only wear this one on solo hits.”

The smell of breakfast filled the penthouse while Jack made pancakes and waffles and Michael manned the bacon. The scent dragged the remaining crew members out of their bedrooms.

Geoff came out first in boxers and a t-shirt, the look much different than the suit he wore out of the house. He was followed by Ryan who had his too-long pajama pants dragging around his ankles with some dorky reference shirt. At some point, the short J-named man wandered out in basketball shorts and a tank top. They all started to pile their plates with food, barely even awake as they poured their coffees.

“Save Jeremy some waffles, Gav. You know he likes those more than pancakes.” Jack said, taking a waffle off the Brit’s plate and replacing it with two pancakes.

Ray paused. “So _that's_ your name.” He said probably a bit loud as they all stopped and looked to him. Feeling his cheeks heat up, he looked at the ground. “Well, all you guys said last night was ‘Lil J’ so I've been trying to figure it out ever since.”

At the slightly awkward silence from the drowsy crowd, Ray shrugged. “I was sort of hoping for Jeramiah, what with the hat and everything…” This made Geoff laugh, Jeremy and Jack chuckle, and the rest shake their heads while smiling.

“Ray says he’s gonna sort out the hair situation today.” Jack said to Geoff as they both sipped at coffee and the rest of the crew chewed at their breakfasts.

“Good, wouldn't want a hobo looking motherfucker in the top of my crew.” Geoff joked, winking at him. “Ruins the whole image.”

“But we already have Matt.” Gavin piped up around a mouthful of pancake, almost making himself gag.

“One, he isn't in the main group, he's more of a BTS kind of guy. Two, we picked him up like that and he looks weird otherwise.” A gentle nudge to the British man’s shoulder was good natured, but made then man squawk and imminently further the gag reflex due to the over stuffed mouth.

Ray shoveled one last bite of waffle into his mouth before swiping a piece of bacon from Ryan’s plate and standing from the table. “I'm gonna get my stuff then head out. Whoever wants to come and ruin some people’s days can meet me down in the garage in fifteen.”

  
~oOo~

  
The use of his key card again brought his down to the large garage with the assistance of the elevator. Ray shifted the bag on his shoulder, adjusting how it and the old sweatshirt fell on him. It was only when he put it one for the first time in forever that he realized just how large the once fitting purple jacket had gotten on him.

When the doors opened, Ray was met by a few waiting people. He had expected Michael, but was surprised to see Ryan and Gavin.

Ryan had his face paint on and his hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. His leather jacket was hanging off his body with the front open which only made it easier to see the holster around his shoulder sporting a gun and ample amounts of ammo.

Gavin was next to him, his golden sunglasses sat atop his head as they weren't of any use inside the garage. He had changed into one of his nice shirts and his hair was just as, if not more disheveled than it had been minutes ago.

“Ready to go?” Michael asked. He was wearing his usual leather bomber jacket. A bag was over his shoulder that undoubtedly contained different explosive devices.

“Yep, we taking the bikes?” Ray tried to keep his tone indifferent, but he had been dying to get back on his bike since he made the decision to come back.

“Bikes, got it.” Michael said and headed off to his section of the garage, Gavin trailing behind him. Ray saw Ryan walk away and start zipping up his jacket. He let his feet take him towards his own section, only a couple cars with a few different bikes and off road vehicles. The space was filled with the sound of three engine revving as they all headed toward the exit. Ray and Ryan had their own bikes while Gavin was sitting on the back of Michael’s bike.

Ray couldn't help but smile as they sped through the streets. His hair whipped behind him and he thanked the gods that he was getting a haircut. Weaving dangerously through traffic with practiced precision, they reached the small barber shop within minutes of leaving the penthouse.

The bell rang over the door as Ray walked in, the other three crew members opting to wait outside by the bikes. The salon was warmly lit with only three seats and mirrors. Only one of the three was in use, the other two not having been used since years before even Ray left. A familiar purple jumpsuit sat behind the counter looking at the computer. Quite a few gray hairs had wormed their way into the dark hair.

“Wasn't expecting a customer so soon after openin’.” She said, glancing up and doing a double take. “We I might have just well seen a ghost.” She laughed and stood from behind her counter, her hand still resting on something. “Don't you kids know many years it's been? You'd think you’d’ve been smart enough to know when a person had left the city.” A shot gun was raised from behind the counter, but Ray stood calmly with his hands dangling at his sides. “You can't imitate someone who hasn't been in the city for over ten years. Now, you'd best be leavin’ ‘fore someone has to come take you out, body bag or otherwise.”

“Sorry to break it to you, Shontay, but I don't think that'll have much effect.” Ray shrugged, shifting his weight to the opposite foot. “And frankly, I'm a bit offended you don't recognize me.”

The shotty dropped a bit and a confused look crossed the salon manager’s face. “Ray?” Her voice was painted with disbelief. “Boy, I thought you’d died for real years ago!” The gun found its place on the counter again and Ray found himself in her embrace. “And of course you don't look a day older, you and your immortal friends.” She shook her head, lifting a lock of his hair. “Course, you got this crime against the world right here. _I_ should be the one who is offended.”

“Couldn't let anyone near it that wasn't you.” Ray said, leading himself to one of the chairs as she gathered her things. “Took a swing at it myself a few months ago, but you can see where that got me.” She took his jacket and hung it on the chair to his left, draping a cape over him instead. “Geoff still paying you well?”

“I'm still in business, ain't I?” His glasses were taken from his face as she pulled out her scissors. He closed his eyes and just let her drawl wash over him. “You gettin’ the usual.”

“The usual.” He confirmed as the snipping of scissors filled his ears.

 

~oOo~

 

The lack of weight from the hair on his head and face made him feel lighter as he stepped out of the salon and into the bright, sunny street of Los Santos. Michael, once they all heard him come out, blew him a joking wolf-whistle.

“Hey there, hot stuff. Good to see you again.” His cocky comment was met with an elbow to his ribs courtesy of Ryan. The other man was smiling, though, obviously ignoring the events of the night before. “You ready to fuck some shit up?”

“Any time, any place.” Ray affirmed and shouldered the bag from his bike. “I'm thinking mini-mart followed by a gas station? Finish it by blowing the station to hell and beyond?”

“Sounds like a regular Tuesday night to me.” Ryan hummed, followed by a rumble of his engine signaling the others to get on their bikes.

Ray led the pack out of downtown, away from the penthouse and the bulk of civilization. That was one of the rules that Ray had built himself over the years: never kill an innocent if it could be helped. The crew had no problem killing each other, whether it was to relieve their stresses or to piss off the recipient, but Ray would not kill an innocent bystander on purpose.

It was easy to kill someone when you knew they could come back, but it was infinitely harder when you didn't know for a fact that they would.

Riding out to the rural areas let them all get used to riding with one another again. They laughed as they drove circles around each other on the roads, whether they were dirt or asphalt, and tried to run each other off the roads.

The way that everybody just eased back into the old routine made Ray smile. He was happy that he hadn't uprooted everything upon his arrival back.

For all he knew, he had barely uprooted anything when he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to RTX this year! 
> 
> After this week, I'll probably try and keep to the schedule of putting something out once a week. I can't promise that I'll keep to that as Writer's Block has been hitting me hard lately.
> 
> Is anyone else going to RTX? If so, what days? (I'm going all three!) Are you cosplaying? (I'm going as Demon!Geoff, Dragonface, and the Vagabond!)
> 
> Remember to leave a comment and tell me your thoughts. Whether your thoughts are on this chapter, your day, or anything else. 
> 
> QOTC: What is your favorite color?


	3. Ain't Got Nobody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to the times without Ray.

The first week after Ray left was the hardest.  
  
It just seemed so sudden that everyone was at a loss as to how to react. The penthouse lulled into a quiet hum instead of the usual uproarious laughter and noise that filled its rooms. When Ray had announced that he was leaving, he had been gone within hours. They had all wanted to go after him, but Ryan had said that they just needed some time. Wanderlust and all that.

It still wasn’t close to the same, though. Sure, they had tried to fall back into routine, but they couldn’t really carry out any of the previously planned heists correctly without the sixth member. Their usual movie night schedule that week was disrupted as it was his turn to choose what they watched, and all of them sincerely hoped he would return within the next few weeks. Ryan had said that that was the usual time it took for him to come home since the invention of commercial flights.

They all had hoped that he would have returned within a month, but no such luck. It had been almost a week since any of them had even heard from him, the last being Michael’s Halo match against him. They all stay around the living room watching and bickering as they heard his voice over Live’s voice chat. It could almost be described as old times until Ray had to abruptly stop the call after saying “Shit, I have to go, something’s come up all wrong.” He never told them where he was, not even so much as a street name. All of them were worried for their friend and it seemed that it was starting to worry even Ryan, the one who had told them to let him go off on his own.

 Ray could handle himself, they knew. Having proven that thousands of times in the time that he had spent with the crew. Not to mention the time in which it was just he and Ryan. Ryan kept swearing that he would _definitely_ come back. He had left all of his things in their storage unit after all.

 Ryan started to give up hope after a year and a half, though.

 He started thinking that ‘ _maybe I was wrong’_ and ‘ _maybe he won't come back for me after all_ ’ and ‘ _I shouldn't have let him leave_.’

 The rest of the crew noticed that he started to keep more to himself, no longer participating in the friendly banter that started to happen every so often. No one brought up Ray, it had become a touchy topic with everyone. The absence of a funny comment, or even a meme, had become prevalent in any conversation they held whether it be at the dinner table or over the comms during a job.

 Ryan wore his mask more often, much like he had when they had first met him, and they all assumed it was because he couldn't hide how it was tearing him up on the inside anymore. They told him that he didn’t have to hide it, that they were all feeling it, but all it got them was a shrug and the indifferent gaze that his eyes had permanently adopted behind the mask.

 Ten years after Ray left they found Jeremy.

 Well, that’s what they claimed, but he was really the one who came looking for them. He wasn’t a rookie to the business, but he was new to Los Santos. Even so, everyone in the country had heard of the Fake AH Crew whether through the news or through word of mouth from the criminal underground. He had thought it would be a _great_ idea to try and provoke the crew hoping that would get him noticed. 

It was only after they had burned him to a crisp and he was back at them the next day that they offered him a job.

Ryan was obviously upset at first.

 Everyone fell into the old routine, apparently adopting Jeremy as a viable replacement for his best friend. He avoided Jeremy for the first several months, only sparing him the barest of glances and minimal words only over the comms during jobs where his information was vital to Jeremy’s job. He knew that Jeremy was intimidated by him, and really who wouldn’t be if you met  one of the most feared men in Los Santos and all he did was either glare at you or give you a look that held only dead eyes.

 Jeremy knew that everyone in the crew was immortal as it was one of the deciding factors of if he was actually joining, but he didn’t know how old some of them were. Almost all of them were definitely younger than him, but Ryan and Gavin had never told him their ages or their first deaths. Michael would eventually tell him in his third year of working with the crew, but Ryan only relented his age about a year and a half before Ray actually returned.

Ryan had finally started to open up again, relenting to the idea that Ray was never coming back, no matter what he had told himself or what he had hoped. He participated in more conversations and banter than he had in the past seventeen years. The crew welcomed him back with open arms as they settled back into having a sixth member again.

 Jeremy had asked about ‘BrownMan’ once, a few months after Ryan had actually started talking to him and he felt safe with the crew. Ryan only stood from where he was with a blank expression they hadn't seen in awhile and left the penthouse with his mask in tow. Jack explained to Jeremy that it was a touchy subject for all of them and all he needed to know is that he left them a long time ago.

 It was never brought up again and Ryan spoke to Jeremy a week later, after only a single punch to the jaw that left a nasty mark for another week.

 They had all acclimated to not having Ray around, no matter how long that took, but they never stopped thinking about him. Little thoughts such as ‘ _is he okay’_ and ‘ _wonder where he is right now_ ’ flicked into all of their heads at some point, but they thought he was never coming back.

 

Until he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, guys. I was stuck in Texas for two weeks after RTX and then school started kicking my ass. Hopefukly I can actually start to keep up with a posting schedule. I have half of at chapter written for this story and I'm slowly working on another, different idea.
> 
> Anyway, make sure to leave a comment and tell me what you think!


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